I believe I can become world No. 1, says Saina Nehwal

When my mom first started telling me I would become the world champion, though, I would only laugh. 'Stop making fun of me', I used to tell her," Saina Nehwal recalls. (TOI Photo)

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MUMBAI: It was a slap, 14 years ago, that changed Saina Nehwal's life, instilling in her an instant resolve to become the world's best badminton player.

"I was barely 8 or 9, and I was playing in my first tournament, an under-10 event in Thane," she recalls, during a winsome interaction as she slips into the role of TOI's Guest Sports Editor, on Saturday.

"I took on an older player in the final and lost. I was coming off the court when my mother, who desperately wanted me to win, slapped me in front of everybody. All the other girls started laughing at me and I told myself at that moment, 'I will show all these guys'," she says, narrating the turning point of her extraordinary life.

Today, of course, Saina is an Olympic medallist, the current World No. 3 and, easily, one of the most popular sportspersons in the country; the little matter of the childhood resolve, however, remains: she wants the holy grail of the sport, the No. 1 spot that has become the preserve of China's battery of women shuttlers.

The girls who laughed at her, and everyone who faces her from the other side of the net, know that it's foolhardy to take her lightly; she knows exactly what she wants and how to get it. "I am the editor today," she says with a twinkle in her eye. "Can we just have badminton stories, and nothing else in the sports pages," she asks, as she is presented with the day's story list.

"Yes, I want to become the world No. 1," she says, her voice quivering for just a split second, betraying her innermost dream, if not the tough road ahead. But she recovers in the same breath, adding, "The way I have been playing and the consistency I have been showing, I have the belief that I can."

It wasn't difficult for that self-belief to become second nature. "If, as a child, you are constantly told that you are going to be the Olympic champion, the No. 1 in the world, you kind of start believing it. It gets ingrained in you. When my mom first started telling me I would become the world champion, though, I would only laugh. 'Stop making fun of me', I used to tell her," she recalls.

But her mother, a national badminton player just like her husband, didn't stop. She kept repeating the magical words until it got embedded in her daughter's heart.

"She is God's gift to us," says her father Harvir Singh. "I didn't have money, job, land or anything in Hyderabad. But I just went there, almost propelled by an inner voice," he explains. That began their journey into the extremely tough world of badminton and a nearly non-existent system in the country, eventually guiding her to the watchful eyes of mentor Pullela Gopichand.

Dressed sharply in casuals - blue jeans, pink top with white fringes, black leather coat and silver slip ons - Saina looks like any other young urban girl; her hair open, without any sign of the innumerable and colourful clips that she sports during a match. There is no sign of make-up, though, no kaajal, no lipstick; the real Saina, however, manifests in her lively eyes and firm chin, even giving a glimpse of the steel in her heart.

Saina is totally at ease amidst a bunch of strangers and giggles unabashedly, clearly enjoying the attention; but, just like on court, she is ever alert: she answers every query as adroitly as she retrieves shots, blocks smashes and, then, even dares to engage you in net-play.

"I am not talented at all," she says, disarming you with her modesty. "I can run around a lot and play long rallies. I have worked on my strokeplay but you can't do much about that if you don't have great wrists. My smashing is good but I still need to work on my drops. But I have a peculiar problem. If I learn one thing, I forget the other. If I learn the drop, I forget my defence; if I learn the defence, I forget the drop," she says, laughing at her own folly. "Luckily, my physical attributes are there. They help me stay in the game. Even if I play a stupid stroke, I can keep the shuttle in, in play."

She has, of course, reached this level of super fitness because of her tough daily regimen, which is almost legendary in her circles; it takes away almost 12-14 hours of her life every day but she only revels in it. "Yes, I would say it's 60% hard work and 40% talent and skill in my case," she concedes.

The interaction stretches way beyond the slotted time; but she is no hurry to leave. She wants to talk, share her secrets. She wants badminton to become the most popular sport in the country and she thinks the soon-to-be launched IBL is a step in that direction. She hopes sponsors will come in and academies will sprout across the nation.

"You know, I still meet some of those girls who had played in the under-10 tournament in Thane. We talk about that slap and we all laugh over it. But now they say: 'wish our moms had slapped us like that too'," she says.

Yes, at times, a slap can change lives, even make you a world champion.